The Nightmare
by FateOfChaos
Summary: Nightmares haunt all of us. Some more then others. Alex Rider is one of them. Is everything he sees a miracle? Or is it just another illusion?


**Okay, this is my first go at an Alex Rider fanfiction. Actually, this basically was an English assignment, but I decided to post it and see what all you AR fans think. Sorry it's confusing, but I wanted it to be like that. Mystery, and then everything is revealed!**

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The Nightmare

Alex let out a sigh. He watched as his breath formed into a small cloud of mist before disappearing. It was cold. The darkness of the room seemed to envelope him, trapping him.

Where was he? He vaguely remembered someone–an Australian. There had also been another man, an assassin known as The Gentleman. Then there had been others. Several other Englishmen, a Russian–they had seemed familiar.

"Little Alex." He flinched away slightly as the door on the far wall opened. That voice. He knew that voice. He locked eyes with the perpetrator and his throat went dry.

"Yassen." It was him. There was no mistaking it. Yassen Gregorovich was standing in the doorway, looking very much alive and well. His looked pretty much the same as when he last saw him, at least before Damian Cray shot him, thus killing him. But, that couldn't be it. Alex felt his head swim. He was looking at a dead man.

"Come," the assassin told him. Nothing more, nothing less.

"How are you alive?" Alex needed to know. "I saw Cray shoot you" How exactly was Yassen alive? He had watched the man die right before his eyes.

Yassen merely looked at him from the corner of his eye. "There is someone who wishes to see you."

Alex resisted the terrible urge to punch the man in the face. Yassen had purposefully avoided him question. Why? What was there to hide?

As Alex followed Yassen, he realized just how bleak the place was. Barren whitewash walls and dark hardwood flooring. There wasn't any sort of decoration among the walls, only a simple wall scone here and there. It reminded him of MI6. Bleak, no explanations, and possible danger around every corner. He hated it. He tried to get answers out of Yassen several times, but he knew it was useless. The man was a trained assassin and contact killer. He wouldn't give out any information unless he absolutely had to.

After about five minutes they came to a set of large antique oak doors. Wordlessly, Yassen held open the door for him to walk in. Inside the room was a scene Alex thought he would never again witness in his life.

The room was a lot more decorative than the hallways. Furniture of all different brands and styles was littered around the room. The wall were painted a light mauve giving it a homier feel. Abstract paintings of the English landscape hung on the walls. The entire room was lit by hundreds of tiny flickering candles that sat perched in a chandelier that hung high above from the ceiling. While the room was impressive, Alex's attention was focused on it's occupants.

Another man who he had thought was long dead, Ian Rider, his uncle, stood in the center of the room. Alex blinked back the tears that had suddenly welled up. He rushed forward and hugged the man. Ian hugged him back. Ian softly stroked his hair, soothing him.

"Oh, Alex." He whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

How was this possible? First Yassen, now Ian. Alex turned his attention to the other two occupants in the room. One was a woman. She was dressed casually, but stood straight and alert. Her brown eyes, his eyes, is what caught his attention.

"Mom?" He whispered. He silently turned his attention to the other, a man. Alex quickly took in the SAS military uniform and unruly kept fair hair with stride. "Dad?"

John and Helen Rider. His parents! How were they alive? They had died in a plane accident when he was just barely four months. How was it possible they were here?

"Alex." The man, his father, smiled. He walked forward and embraced him in a strong hug. Alex felt the tears running down his face before he could stop them. It wasn't possible, but they were somehow here, alive.

When his father pulled out of the hug, Alex had barely enough time to breathe before his mother rushed forward and hugged him like a lifeline. He could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Look at you!" She said. "You're all grown up. And handsome!" She caressed his face lightly. "Brave. Just like John." Both Helen and John smiled at him with pride. Alex couldn't help but smile back.

Someone's hand was on his shoulder and he turned to see Ian. Yassen was a little farther behind him.

"We've missed you, Alex." Ian said. "But I wish you weren't here, though."

"What do you mean? You are all here. How are you all alive?"

They all looked to one another before fixing him with a sad stare.

"We are not alive, Alex." Yassen said. "You are the one who is dead."

Alex woke up gasping for air. He pulled at the sheets, scrambling to get out of bed. He was burning up and his eyes were moist. He swiftly ran to the bathroom and splashed cold running water on his face, promptly waking him up. Alex stood there for a moment, gazing at his reflection.

He soon found himself downstairs, sipping a cup of ice water. He watched silently as the hands ticked around the clock, proclaiming it to be quarter past four. He had been sitting there for the past hour. The dream had really caught him off guard. It had seemed so _real._ In a way, he wished it had been.

The stairs creaked from behind him. He turned to see his guardian, Jack Starbright.

"Alex," she said, giving a big yawn. "What are you doing up?"

He shrugged in reply. Jack sleepily rubbed her eyes as she sat down beside him.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." She noted. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Alex looked down before giving her a small smile. He was happy with his life. His family might be dead and MI6 might be trying to turn him into their personal super-weapon, but all that didn't matter. He still had family in Jack and in his best mate, Tom. They may not be related by blood, but they were still family. He was happy with his life, and nothing would change that.

"Yes, I'm alright, Jack," he reassured her. "I just had a bad dream, is all."

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**So, that's it. The end! I might consider making a sequel since I kind of left it hanging. But I feel good with it. Tell me what you think in a review, and if you have ideas for a sequel don't hesitate to PM me!**


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